Just a crush
by arrowslinger
Summary: Hermione has long since noticed her professor as more than just a teacher. His dishevelled appearance and tragic history attract her and her hormones like no other. But is it meant to be? Remus/Hermione AU, Post-war
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all of the Harry Potter universe.  
**Title:** Just a crush (1/?)  
**Characters:** Remus Lupin/Hermione Granger  
**Summary:** Hermione admits her feelings about him to her Professor. How will he respond?  
**Category:** PWP  
**Era:** AU, Post-war  
**Warnings:** Sex!

"Sir, I need to talk to you," Hermione said as the rest of the other students left the classroom.  
"Go ahead, Hermione." Remus said whilst packing up his papers. He looked up expectantly when she never spoke. She was gazing at him intensely. Shocked, he asked, "Is something wrong?"  
She shook her head and stepped towards him hesitantly.  
"Professor Lupin, I, er.."  
She closed her eyes for a second and bit her lip, then opened them, looking more certain. Remus watched her, confused and worried.  
"Sir, I find myself in a very unusual position."  
he nodded encouragingly, wondering what situation could have stumped the brilliant Miss Granger.  
"What kind of situation?"  
"I seem to be... in love with you"  
Remus stared at her, waiting for her words to turn into a Defense against the dark arts related query.  
"What?" He croaked.  
"I love you so much. I can't stop thinking about you, I feel dizzy when you're near and my, er, body responds very enthusiastically to the thought of you." Hermione finished listing the reasons she loved her teacher with a slight flush on her cheeks.  
Through his shock, he was impressed with how she managed to maintain a business-like manner, even when telling a superior how she was aroused by the thought of him.  
What was he supposed to say to her? He was silent, realising she was awaiting an answer but unable to speak. Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of her age, loved _him?_ A scruffy werewolf with low self esteem, no confidence and no likeable features to speak of? Ever since he'd come back to Hogwarts after the war had ended, to take up his old post due to an unfortunate number of staff losses, he'd felt more out of place than ever.  
Now everyone knew he was a werewolf and though noone seemed bothered by it, Remus knew it was just a matter of time before McGonagall realised how useless, disgraceful and disgusting he was and sent him packing.  
But now this beautiful, talented witch was biting her bottom lip, wide eyes searching his face, hands tangled in the front of her robe. She was waiting to see if _he_ would accept _her! _ It was unbelievable. His subconscious mind told him, yes, she loves you! Smile, kiss her!. His werewolf side wanted to bend her over the table right now and take her and claim her as his mate. His conscience, however, knew that she was his student, much younger, and deserved so much better than him. He couldn't do it to her morally.  
He cleared his throat, realising he'd not responded for much longer than was polite, and Hermione had a look of dispair on her face. The hope that had lit it up so beautifully was gone.  
"Hermione, I am very flattered, but it is very normal for students to form crushes on their teachers. This is only that, a crush. I can recommend some literature on the subject if you would like to research it. But do not feel that it is love, it isn't." Looking into her face, it felt like his heart was breaking.  
She now seemed closed off, distant. He felt intensely guilty and evil. She had plucked up the courage to tell him her feelings and he had thrown them back in her face.  
He turned back to his papers, picked them up and climbed the stairs to his office, restraining himself from turning back to look at her. When he reached the top, she was gone.  
It was just a teenage crush. Of course it was! Remus told himself. She would come to her senses and realise how unsuitable and ugly he was soon enough. Until then he just had to avoid her as much as possible, to save her embarrassment. It was for her own good.  
His own feelings played no part in this. It was disgusting of him to desire a student so, and it just showed how evil he was. He didn't deserve any happiness, let alone an angel like her.  
That night he dreamt of her. He woke up crying but rock hard. Ignoring it, he showered, trying to think of other, less savoury things. She was his student, he was evil, disgusting, a monster. Taking advantage of her innocent crush was wrong.  
But he still throbbed, stiff, sensitive to the streams of water flowing over him. He imagined it was her in the shower, water streaming over her pert young breasts and down her thighs.  
She held her hair back, letting water run over her face. Her hair was soaked, for once tamed back.  
Her hand slid down her body and between her legs.. as did Remus', and his hand was pumping madly, and he was coming hard, shuddering and weeping. Monster. Monster.


	2. Chapter 2

That day, Remus set all his classes essays to write, and sat at his desk staring blankly at work he was supposed to be marking. The students talked quietly amongst themselves, a few even seemed worried about their usually bright and cheery teacher, who gave interesting lessons, not essays. When it was the seventh year class, he set the work without looking once in Hermione's direction. He could feel her gaze burning into him for the whole hour, but he kept his head down. When the bell went he turned and quickly entered his office at the back of the classroom.

Minutes later, he heard a knock at his door, and it opened unasked. It was her. He could see that the rest of the class were just leaving. She stepped into the room, blushing red but determined, closing the door behind her.  
"Sir, I still need your help with my problem. You see, it may be just a crush," she said the word distastefully, and continued in a whisper "but my body is still aching for you. All night I writhe and dream about you, and wake up wet and throbbing. It's stopping me sleeping, and as a result my schoolwork is slipping. Please. I don't know how else to stop it. I have tried..touching myself. Often. But it makes no difference. When I am around you I am still soaking wet and desperate. Please." She was standing in front of his desk, staring into his eyes, "Please. Touch me."

He couldn't move, he was so shocked at her words. This wasn't the Hermione he had known for years. For her to admit this to him in such a way, she must have been planning it for months and could see no other solution. How had he not noticed he was having this effect on her? It greatly surprised him. He'd thought her words yesterday had been the innocent attempts at seduction of a schoolgirl, hoping for a sweet kiss, but here was a woman, begging to be touched! How had he overlooked all she had gone through at Harry's side, facing Voldemort himself, and how it had changed her? She was a different person, much more confident and determined to waste no time in getting what she wanted.  
While he thought all this, he realised that while his mind was uncertain and indecisive about the sentiments Hermione was expressing, his body had made up it's mind and was responding whole heartedly. His cock strained against his robes, the friction delightful but constricting. He half rose, and sat again.

"Hermione..." he whispered. She stepped around his desk, and faced him up close. He quickly stood up, feeling vunerable below her gaze. Suddenly, she pressed her body against him, taking control in a manner at odds with her schoolgirl attire. On tiptoes, she lifted her lips towards his ear.

"Please," she breathed into it, "I need you to teach me.." She pulled his earlobe into her mouth and sucked it, nipping gently. Remus was frozen once again by her actions, breathing raggedly. Without giving time to think about his actions, he let out air in a gasp and turned his head, grasping hers in his hands and gazing into her eyes. He bent down and quickly pressed his lips onto he pulled back, stunned, and closed his eyes. Hermione was still, on tiptoes, leaning towards him, one hand on his shoulder. He opened his eyes after a few seconds, gaze hard, and, ignoring her expression (lips parted, breathing rapid, eyes hooded gazing at him, giving herself to him) he said, "I apologize. That was inapp-"

Before he could finish, she had reached up and cupped the back of his neck, pulling his head down and pressing her open mouth over his. He kept his closed, but didn't pull away, unable to. She ran her tongue over his lips and pulled his bottom one into her mouth, sucking hard. He let out a long, shuddering groan and opened his mouth, letting her explore it with her tongue. As he relaxed, they both fell from the precarious position, until Hermione was pressed against the desk edge and he was bent over her, hands on the desk at either side of her to support himself.

After a long minute, he pulled away, gasping. "This won't work."  
She looked half unable to think with desire, but frowned, moaning, "No! I don't care if you're my-" He interrupted, saying, "I meant, this," gesturing to their awkward position. His back was starting to ache from bending so far over and he had no hands free to touch her. He moved his hands from the desk over her and cupped her bottom, lifting her up onto the desk. Ignoring how close his fingers were to her center he slid between her legs. She automatically twisted her legs around his thighs, pulling them as close together as possible.

"Much better," she sighed, looking into his eyes which were now level with hers. He kissed her again, exploring her open mouth with pleasure. She let him take control, moaning hands ran over his shoulders, his cupping her buttocks firmly. He used this leverage to pull her even closer, and groaned into her mouth when his hard cock came into contact with her crotch. She moved her hips in a roll, rubbing herself against him through layers of clothing.

His lips left her mouth and moved along her neck, nipping her collarbone and sucking at the top of a breast that was reachable in her shirt. Disgruntled, he reached up and unbuttoned the top buttons, freeing her breasts and pushing her bra out of the way. Their hips were moving in time against each other eagerly, desperately.

He took her nipple in his mouth and sucked hard, then bit gently. She gasped and moaned into his hair, hands slipping around his neck, and pressing him closer.  
Then the bell went for the end of break. They froze, and with shaking hands he fixed her bra and did up her shirt. They were still pressed against each other, and neither moved. He kissed her lips lightly and went to move away, but she let out a purr of disagreement and moved her hands to his arse, squeezing and pulling him hard back against her.

He frantically bucked, desperate for friction, and for a few minutes they stared into each others eyes, gyrating.  
Then the first of the students came back into the classroom, talking noisily. Hermione pushed him away, and pressed down her hair, not looking at him. She hopped down from his desk and left his office, calling back to him, "Thank you for your help Professor Lupin, that makes much more sense," and went to sit down next to Ron Weasley, who teased her for staying over break to carry on working.

Remus stared through his open office door at her, mind unfocused and still rock hard, then shook himself. He pulled his robes around him to hide any conspicuous bulges and made his way into the classroom, telling the class to carry on with their essays, then sat down at his desk and stared unbelieving at its surface. He couldn't believe what had just happened.


	3. Chapter 3

Remus stared down at the paperwork on his desk, unbelieving. It was unimaginable that he and one of his students had frotted on his desk over break and nearly come together. Who was he turning into?! He'd denied himself any physical pleasure for years, determined that he didn't deserve it. And now, he'd chose to break his vow of chasticy with a student! An act that could get him sent to prison. What was he thinking?

Then he realised that this wasn't his most immediate problem. They hadn't come together. He was still rock hard, throbbing to be touched, and glancing over, he saw that Hermione's legs were tightly crossed beneath her desk and her hand tapped a frantic rythmn on her thigh. Her hair covered her face, but he could see she was biting her lip, hard. He cursed himself. He had 4 hours of teaching without a break ahead of him, and both he and Hermione had brought themselves to the edge of an orgasm, but not quite over it.

And the sight of her sitting there, aroused and restrained wasn't helping. He realised his hand was pressed against his crotch, and was grinding the heel of his hand down along his cock. He quickly pulled it away, cursing himself. He picked up his pen, and tryed to focus, but his hand drifted again and again and pressed against his cock against his agreement, unable to restrain himself. He was so close, just a few minutes of rubbing and he'd... he was such a monster. He was a teacher, a grown man, rubbing himself through his trousers like a 13 year old boy in the middle of a class full of people. Any of whom might, at any minute come to ask him a question and happen to glance beneath the desk and see...

He stopped rubbing and tried once again to focus. Then Hermione stood up, bringing her parchment towards him. She bent down next to his desk and said, "Sir, I can't seem to find this mentioned in any of the books we have, could you help me please?"  
He tried to clear his mind and concentrate on what she said. Her eyes flicked to the paper and back to her face, then he pulled a book towards him and cleared his throat. "Er, yes, this page here..."

He opened it and laid it on his desk. Hermione leaned further towards him and began to read from it, nodding enthusiastically. He tried to keep his eyes from her shirt, which cleared showed the outline of her breasts hanging down, pressed hard against the material. He could see her nipples, hard and clear even through her bra and uniform. She seemed totally focussed on the tome, lips moving as she memorised certain phrases. So he jumped slightly in surprise when her hand slid up his thigh under the table and pressed against his cock.

"Hermione..."

He murmured, and she glanced quickly at him, a half smile playing over her lips. She didn't move her hand, but began rubbing hard and fast. He held his body rigid and stiff, restraining himself from throwing her over the table and taking her right there and then. Her hand rubbed hard through her trousers, the friction driving him mad. He knew if she carried on he would come, hard. He reached out and grabbed her wrist, freezing her movements.

"Thats enough," he said quietly.

Her eyes danced deviously at him, dark with lust, but she stopped, and pulled away. He added in a loud voice, "You can borrow the book until the end of the lesson."

She thanked him and picked up the book and her word, moving back to her desk. He watched her hips sway, and knew he'd never last until the end of the day. He was going to come in his pants, just watching the minx.

Remus dismissed the class five minutes early, and they left quickly, eager for the break they'd been given before their next lesson. Hermione and Remus wasted no time, he bent her hard over the desk and pushed up her robes, pulled her knickers down. He unbuttoned his trousers and released his cock, careful not to touch it as he felt like he'd come on the spot if he did.

Then, quickly pushing into her wet and needful pussy, he cried out. She gasped and arched her back, changing the angle to drive him in further. They didn't last long, a few thrusts and they both came, Remus pinching one of Hermione's nipple hard under her shirt. They'd been waiting on the edge of an orgasm for over an hour, it was no surprise.

The bell went and they sighed, panting. He pulled out of her, satisfied. They sorted out their clothing, and then she left without a backwards glance. No surprise, to her this was just a lustful crush. She just needed his body. He sighed and settled down to prepare for his next class.


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione smiled so much that evening that Ron actually asked her what she'd been smoking. She just couldn't seem to stop gazing dreamily into space, recounting every detail of the day's events. She wished she could go and visit Remus, but knew she had to play it cool. To him, this was just sex, and while she was happy for what she could get, she found it hard holding herself back from declaring her feelings for him. She'd left quickly after their climax to stop herself blurting out something she wouldn't be able to take back.

It was one thing to let a teacher know you fancied him, quite another that you felt you would die if you couldn't see him every day. She knew how it must look, how she herself would react if the situations were reversed; it was just a crush. But that made no difference to the way she felt around him, like she could trust him with her life, that every second she spent listening to his voice made her more obsessed with him.

And now she'd seduced him, her sexy, dishevelled teacher, and what was she to do? Presumably he was after whatever orgasms he could get (he couldn't possibly fancy her, Ron hadn't even looked her way and Remus was so much more mature than him...) and a naive student was the best way to get that at Hogwarts. What with the whole Tonks situation (from what Hermione could gather, she wasn't planning to move back to England any time soon, after he'd rejected her advances so publicly), he seemed a bit low on the ground, romance wise.

That was another reason she'd done it, she told herself, it wasn't purely selfish. He'd been so...depressed, since Tonks had left, moping around the school (he'd reapplied weeks term started, when he'd found himself drifting around an empty house, presumably for the human contact as well as income) and barely registering the presence of anyone, even his honorary-godson. Remus had tentatively offered himself for the job when Harry found himself alone after the war, and over the summer before their Eight Year, he'd lived with Remus. Visiting him had been when the first glimmer of Hermione's crush on Remus appeared.

Hermione had wanted to bring some sense of belonging into his life; fill the void that it had become, even in the form of the school slut (she cringed at the thought, but she couldn't deny that it was how he must be thinking of her). What was she to say to him, tomorrow morning in class? Would he ignore what had happened between them, blame it on a spur of the moment, lack of control, hormones? Or would he want to continue their...relationship? A tingle ran down her spine at the thought , and she crossed her legs together under the table, scenarios running through her head. _Remus pushing her against a dark corridor wall, kneeling down and lifting up her skirt; Hermione visiting his rooms and licking his entire body, pressing light kisses onto every scar before riding him hard and fast... _Shaking her head, and damning her hormones, she said goodnight to her fellow classmates, and headed for bed. It seemed even once she'd got him, her lust for him wasn't sated.


End file.
